Listeners and Talkers
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Steph claims that Paul doesn't listen, is a bit of a creep, and has become rather dramatic recently. Paul denies all of this. Although, by the end, he does concede to being one of them... - One-shot.


They hadn't seen one another in a week.

Not that this alone was too odd for the couple. They both traveled frequently, with the company, and there were times when that had them both going in opposite directions. Still, it didn't matter if she'd been up since four that morning and was just getting a chance to breathe while it was one in the morning where he was, after a harsh day of travel; they always spoke at least once a day. At most, every two.

It wasn't something one of them had set as a rule. Their phone calls weren't even that long at times. Just a checking in or a goodnight was good enough for the both of them. Just knowing they were both doing alright was enough for both of them.

But it was different this time.

Because they were fighting. And they'd never, not once, had such a bad fight that the two of them didn't at least _talk_. But timing was off and they had their fight the night before Steph was heading out away from him, leaving them no chance to make up.]

Paul wanted to do though. Make up. He didn't that first day. Or most of the second, But by the latter half of it, he just wanted to call her. Tell her he was sorry. He couldn't though, of course, because Stephanie was the one that came crawling back to him. Always. He might give into her for the most part, but following a fight, it was her job to establish a dialogue one more. Following this he might claim for it all to be his fault and to 'not worry about it, princess', but she had to be the one to break first.

It was another one of those rules that weren't really rules.

But Stephanie didn't call. Didn't ask about him, even, as far as he knew. He was hanging around her brother anyways and he gave off no indication of being peeved at him (anymore so than usual, that is), so she hadn't even bitched to him about how badly things had gone.

And she loved bitching to people!

Especially her typically apathetic brother.

So what did that mean?

Nothing good, he was sure, as it slowly became the only thing he could think about. Steph was so emotional and he knew that he was a hothead, so yeah, they fought sometimes, but the thing was, her emotions were constantly changing and his steam was always quick to dissipate. So how was it then that they'd managed to go that long without speaking?

Paul didn't like to be dramatic or anything, didn't believe he was prone to such, but…

What if Stephanie meant it? That she was done with him?

Because that's what she said. That she was done. Screamed, really, at him, as he had to apply massive restraints not to bit a hole through his tongue. It wasn't easy.

The whole thing was stupid. Started over something stupid. Ended stupidly. She was mad at him about not listening and he still didn't listen when she was griping at him, but he did eventually get annoyed by her, in his opinion, mindless chatter when he just didn't want to hear her and, well, snapping at her was wrong. Yes. He could admit that.

But did she always have to be so dang annoying?

Probably. Actually, definitely.

Sigh.

He wanted to call her. To just pick up the phone and call her and talk it over. They weren't going to breakup over something so stupid and they both knew it.

Right?

Right.

...Right?

He felt like she was just trying to punk him, honestly. Make him sweat it some. But at the same time, he was going a bit crazy with the game. They didn't play games like this, she knew that, so why was she trying to force one on him?

Paul didn't like that feeling. Confusion. He liked to be in control of things. And, when unable to do that, to be bale to pretend like whatever he wasn't controlling didn't affect him. That he wasn't bothered by it. That things were going on around him, but since he wasn't the dictator of them, they didn't matter.

It went well with his overall put on persona.

But Stephanie always fucked him up. Always. She seemed to enjoy it for some reason. Throwing him off. She knew that she was one of the only people that could get in his head like that and used it to her advantage.

He hated it.

Especially because he did the same kind of shit to her.

What audacity to think she could pull the same back at him.

What did his woman thing she was? Equal to him?

Probably. Or over him. Which, actually, sounded about right, maybe.

Either way, he was pissed at her still, sort of, so he didn't like it one bit.

Then the nineth day approached and he had to just swallow his pride and go take care of things.

Steph's place wasn't far from where he was (if by not far he meant nearly three hours out of the way) and he just had to go see her. Had to. Calling just wouldn't be enough anymore.

He was gonna have to go see her.

Bigger sigh.

Paul feared she wouldn't be home. Luckily this wasn't the case as he used the password to get into the gated community and his key to get into her place. At the worst, he'd spend the night there without her. At best, he'd get to make up with her and not sleep at all.

Well, actually, worse was her chewing him out again.

But he just hoped that wouldn't happen.

It was late when he arrived and though he found she was definitely hone, she was also in bed already. Honestly, he wasn't until he was shaking her awake that he realized how creepy the whole thing he'd just done was.

Steph even let out a little scream.

"What?" he growled, jumping back in fright as the sight. "Damn, woman, what's wrong with you?"

"Paul?"

"Obviously."

"Oh my God," she huffed as she sat up then, in bed, holding a hand against her chest. "What the fuck? What's wrong with you?'

"What's wrong with- I was surprising you!"

"By giving me a heart attack?"

"This is why I don't do things for you."

"Shut up." And even though her chest was still thumping, she fell back to the bed then. "And go away. I don't want to talk to you."

"Well, too bad. I drove all the way here just for that. Talking." He felt a bit awkward then, lording over her, but she hadn't offered him to get into bed yet. "So that's what we're going to do."

"Have fun talking to yourself."

"Stephanie-"

"I didn't ask you to come here, Paul."

He deflated some then and only glared at her as he said, "We haven't seen one another in over a week and this is how you act when I drive all the way-"

"This is how I act when you break in, you mean?"

"It's not breaking if I have a key."

"Tell that to the cops."

"Stephanie-"

"Get in bed and shut up."

He eyed her for a few moment before saying, "Maybe I don't want to get in bed."

"Paul-"

"I thought you'd like this," he grumbled as, finally, he started to strip down so he could slip between the sheet and join her. "Stephanie."

"Why? If I haven't called you, clearly I don't want to see you."

"Oh, is that what that clearly means?"

"I thought it did, yeah. You didn't call me, so you know what I didn't do? Show up at your hotel room like a creep."

"You gave me a key."

"For when you're invited over."

"You shouldn't call guys creepy anyways, Steph. Ruins a reputation."

"Don't make a reputation you're not proud of then."

He couldn't tell what they were doing. Fighting? It didn't feel like it. Bickering? Maybe. But there was no play in either of their tones. She seemed to actual be mad at him still, though if that was about their past argument or just him showing up unannounced, he couldn't say.

What he could say though was that he definitely wasn't going to be getting some sleep that night. Not much, but not for any good reason.

Stephanie hardly let him have any blanket and Paul only laid there, overly exhausted by that point, kicking himself for even coming to see her. Clearly, she didn't want him to and wasn't ready to make up yet. Now he made himself look stupid.

And, apparently, creepy.

He took solace in the fact though that when he retold this story to his friends, Steph would look like a total bitch.

Until he remember he would look like a creep in hers to her friends and, well, one was definitely worse than the other.

Sleep was close, anyways, and his eyes were starting to drift closed when he felt the bed move slightly and Stephanie turned to face him.

"I was going to talk to you when we saw one another next," was all she softly explained. "Paul."

He considered what she said sleepily before letting out a sigh. "Couldn't wait that long."

"You were such an ass to me, before. And then you didn't call-"

"I never call, Steph. You call me."

"Well, maybe you should sometimes," she chided and ugh, why did he even come? "What's it always on me?"

"You like calling me."

"Shut up."

"Don't you?"

"That's not the point."

"And I came all the way here, Stephanie, just to see you. That's more than a damn phone call, ain't it?"

She gave him a dirty look at that.

"You came here," Steph said with a frown, "to have sex."

"Did not."

"Did so."

"What do you know?"

"You."

Damn.

Just damn.

Glaring, he said, "I came here to make up."

"And have sex," she clarified. "And you know it."

"What's wrong with doing both?"

"Go to bed."

"I was," he defended. "You're the one that started talking to me."

"After you broke into-"

"I'll leave, Stephanie," he cut her off then. "If that's what you want. Just tell me if that's it. If that's what you want. And I'll do it."

"You're so dramatic."

"I am not! You're the one-"

"Who broke into-"

"I'm leaving." He shoved up then. "Fuck this. I come in here to make up-"

"Quit being-"

"You quit being-"

"Just lay down."

He didn't. But he didn't get out of bed either. Just glared down at her with his darkest gaze.

"What are we even fighting about, Steph?" he asked. "Do you remember?"

"You were-"

"Well, I don't. And I don't care either. I'm not mad anymore. If you still are, fine, say that. But stop trying to drag me back into the fight with you."

It was her turn to glare then and, with her own huff, she gave him her back once more.

For a while, they were both still. He even drifted off for a good hour there. But the feeling of her tugging at his arm awoke him and, as he griped nonsensically, she only grumbled out a reply.

"I can't sleep now," she said as she tugged him closer to her, forcing the man almost to curl up to her back and throw an arm around her. "Because of you."

"'cause of me?"

"Because of you."

"Sorry," he slurred a bit as he nuzzled his head against the back of hers and Steph let out a soft sigh. "Love you. You know."

"Yeah," she agreed as she patted his hand as his arm tightened around her. "I know."

He had to leave super early. Hardly got any sleep at all. Still, he didn't leave before waking her up one last time by pressing a few messy kisses to her cheek until she shoved him away and demanded her key back.

"Do you one better, princess," he challenged as he slipped back into his jeans and she only held the blankets over her head. "I keep the key, keep showing up whenever I want, and you get the fuck over it."

"One day I'm not just gonna not call you," she threatened beneath the fabric. "I'm gonna not answer the phone and change the locks. Then what?"

"Well, for one, that would never happen."

"Keep pushing me."

"For two, I'd just wait for you to show up to work to see you."

"Creep."

"It's called love, Steph."

"It's called felony stalking."

"You say felony, but I'm not sure you know what it means."

"Do you?"

He stared at her shape there, under the covers, for a long few seconds before moving to tug his shirt on.

"Not that I wouldn't love to school you with my massive information about the stalking laws in Connecticut-"

"But you really want me to not see you as a creep-"

"-I have to go, baby."

"Oh, I'm your baby again?"

He came over to tug the covers off just so he could kiss her goodbye.

"You never stopped being."

She leaned up for the kiss, but still said through heavy eyelids, "You still don't listen to me though."

"Stephie-"

"You don't."

"And you talk too much."

"Paul-"

"You do. You just won't shut up. I get it, I'm terrible. Stop saying it over and over again," he complained. "If I'm not listening to begin with, why do you think I'll start listening because you won't shut the fuck up?"

"Excuse me?"

Maybe he did need some more sleep…

"Steph, I'm just saying-"

"That you don't want to fight anymore, I thought."

He reached down then to pull the blanket back over her head.

"Hey! Stop-"

"Go to sleep." He turned to walk off then. "I have to go."

"Jerk."

"Better than a creep."

"You're that too."

"I'll call you." And he paused in the doorway, to glance back at her. "Stephanie. Are you here all day? I'll call. Tonight. And we can talk then. Seriously talk. Okay?"

For a moment, she was silent. Then, from beneath the blanket, he got a hushed, "'kay."

He'd hate it, he knew, she when he did call her. Because she clearly had a lot of pent up stuff to unleash on him. And his day was already packed. To end it with a big phone call to his girlfriend about a topic he didn't wanna hear about was definitely not anything he was looking forward to.

And yet…

"Why do you sound so shocked I called?" he grumbled some time later as he laid in his hotel bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. "Stephie?"

"Uh, because I am."

"That's kind of rude. I only said I would."

"Are you ready to listen though?" she asked as, with a bit of a sigh, he nodded alone in his room.

"So long as you don't go on and on and on-"

"You know, if you asked literally anyone else, they'd think that you were the one that talked too much," she griped, "between the two of us."

"I really don't think so babe."

"I really do."

"I say things that have substance. And meaning."

"What do I say then?"

"I think I've made it pretty clear what I think you say."

"Paul-"

"I'm already to listen, Steph," he told her simply. "About whatever it is you wanna talk about. One night only and all that, huh? So what's going on?"

She seemed hesitant at first, but eventually, with a deep breath, she began.

And even though he was tired, didn't fully agree, and even wanted to tell her to stop repeating her damn self so much, he let Steph say her peace. Just that once.

When she was done, he said his too, because he was no pushover, but for once he held his tongue and that was important.

As the call ran down though, Paul was glad he made it. It felt like they just talked in circles and that Stephanie really was mad about nothing, but it made her feel better and the better she felt, the better he was.

"Don't show up in my house tonight, okay?" Steph ordered when it was clear he was yawning more than he was talking. "Creep?"

"I'll show up wherever I want to show up wherever I wanna show up."

"Creep up."

"Stephanie."

"Hmmm?"

"Let's not go a week without talking again," was his request. "Alright? Don't think I could handle it."

"You're so dramatic, Paul."

"Maybe," he yawned one last time as he got ready to hangup and fall asleep finally. "Stephie."

* * *

 **This was a request that I couldn't remember if I've filled yet or not (I've, once again, fucked up on keeping track of these things…) for them to have a lengthy fight. If I've already filled it, nothing wrong with filling it again, eh?**


End file.
